


And the Things You Can't Remember Tell the Things You Can Forget

by SilverSpoon6609



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Song fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:07:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23344465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSpoon6609/pseuds/SilverSpoon6609
Summary: A series of one shots that have nothing in common aside from the fact that they were inspired by songs other people have written, simply because “I like beautiful melodies telling me terrible things.”
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	And the Things You Can't Remember Tell the Things You Can Forget

**Author's Note:**

> If you have a song suggestion please send it my way. I'm partial to Classic Rock, Folk, 90's, and anything a little weird :)
> 
> This first chapter is based on a Tom Waits song.

_I love you baby and I always will_   
_I love you baby and I always will_   
_I love you baby and I always will_   
_Ever since I put your picture in a frame_

"Hey." Daryl stops her as he is trailing behind the group leaving Maggie's office.

She doesn't do more than raise an eyebrow at him.

"That paintin'." He nods back over his shoulder.

Anne just looks at him.

"The last one, the one of Maggie's sister, you did that?" There is a heartbeat of hesitation, "The one of Beth?" 

"Yes."

His mouth is moving, chewing at the inside of his lip. "Could ya do another?"

She studies him, takes in the details of his face, the way he never really meets her eyes.

"Of Beth?" 

"Mhmm, yeah."

He still isn't really looking at her, he's dipping his head and ducking his chin, angling his hair to obstruct her view of his face. 

"The same?"

Daryl shakes his head, "Smaller? It's just for.. ah maybe a little... different?" His eyes dart around the hall, "The light, was different." It's a jumbled mess of words.

"Different how?"

"Candles. On a table."

Anne doesn't hide her attempt to make eye contact, cocking her head to meet his nervous gaze. "Peaceful?"

He relaxes, it's a minuscule difference, but it's there in the set of his shoulders.

"Mhmm, yeah."

A week later she hands him something wrapped in a bandanna. He can't do more than a nod and a mumbled 'thanks'. He doesn't move to open it, just slides it into the bag on his bike and heads back to Sanctuary. 

He never takes it out while he is there. He can't. Daryl just moves it from his bike to the pocket of his vest. There are images of her, Hershel, Glen, Denise, Carl... following him through the damp corridors. There are roped off hallways lined with block-walled rooms whispering to him in the night. There are belts and guns, arrows and bats, and a heavy pit growing inside him as crops die and people look toward him for answers.

But he listens, and goes along with the plan, again.

The woods have always been easier, safer, and when it comes down to it, when that final straw descends upon him that's where he goes. He does not look back. 

The night is quiet and warm, Dog is a warm weight against his thigh.

He pulls the bandanna out and turns it over in his hands. It's one of those small plastic frames with a magnet for the fridge. 

It's her. 

Wispy charcoal lines defining her messy braid. Eyes soft and wide. A gentle light radiating up to highlight a barely there smile. 

Oh.

You gotta stay who you are.


End file.
